ㅤㅤㅤ MANHOOD: A Scar Remains.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ Sing for me new wrappings of flesh, Soft and strong and marking-less, Untouched by the world's cruelty. Let me stand up shamelessly. Penned, ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ @ssikap's.
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ᅠᅠㅤㅤㅤ
{PHILIPPIC—OVERHEARD} 💫 ⚚
parastin headlines in disconsolateness against harsh strike that mandate be lithographs with the delicate palm hands arisings out south korean. that caligo an anxious correspondence with no luminous threshold its sphere.
quotidian existence that can solitary be acknowledgement herefore swearing onto the demeanour pounding sensation, phtharic in curiousity conveys each one exquisite empyrean.💣 𐄖• MAGNANIMOUS PRESTIGE: amenable can evigheden be harken simply hereby glancing into his oculus. ᅠᅠㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
😘 THE WORLD FULL OF LOVE, I──Found You.
Through the nights that we bear passed together, she who always hold my hand apparently forceful me to stand away your side.
I glance toward her lovely gaze
that sparkling warmth to me,
thus smiled, feeling doubtful at
what i was glimpse presently.
Beneath the moon, with nobody
else but us.
CLASSIC POEM, “I, am the poet.” IN THE MIDDLE OF NIGHT, 2nd. 🚩│ Her body moves to hustle. She │ dance perfectly forth me. Like a │ piece against a romance cinema, i │ follow her dance. Beneath the beautiful luminescence, we danced. I, embrace her waist, in my tenderness, i whispered, “I love you, and will forever love you.”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
“You bit me, with your long fangs.
Digging into my neck, with a
tingling sensation and pain that i
feel.” (1983)
ENDLESS LIFE: 🎇 The World Shining Brilliantly.
The world is my chessboard, shining brilliantly. The climax of endless life. Stepping on the world, toasts for me.
It's not fun anymore, no more fever,
i'm tired of easy games. Filling the thirst
that has become numb with something,
sink my teeth in ya.
And in this moment, with the
classic poem ──that i wrote
on paper with black ink.
(Blood-scented)
(.&) 💙 Until the Last Breath.
│ You make me so thirsty, feel the
│ bite between my jaw, so tasty.
│ Believing in emotions like love is
│ obvious, an empty illusion. No
│ excitement, feel nothing. The hotter
│ it gets, the more i feel nothing. In
│ fact, even this moment feels no
│ tasty. Sick of my life, not fine alone
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